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Apr 2018
(when living nightmare pierced real time
thus engendering the following rhyme)

adrenaline powered stealth bomb blast
with the noggin of this, ah... ur... bane chap,
     which debilitating anxiety doth outlast
means to cope (thunder and dumb struck)
     with stranger mental things

     at expressed vertigo, nausea, racing heartbeat
     ogres recreated tormented, torpedoed, tortured
     most decades from my yesteryear,
     which aye presumed long passed.  

now, within my head "guerilla"
     warring faction
     lobs a grenade followed by "bombs away"
broadside finding this body electric doing

     a kamikaze nosedive into sick bay
where major organs suffer direct hit
     analogous to a giant fist
     smashing pumpkins,

     sans thine flesh as if clay,
which psychic sortie plagues my ability
     to function reduced
     tub bing bedridden one day

approximately one week ago
     from this thirtieth of April
     tooth house sand ate teen gray
ting, grinding, and grounding with figurative

     threshing blades employed
     to winnow chaff from hay
literally crushing willpower,
     where invisible jaws

     of sharpened steel interlay
atop pulling stalwart garrison strafed,
     (akin to a crash test dummy) named Jay
Walking to become blindsided

     obliterating every last trace to stay alive
     hence, this emergency transmission,
     viz this bloke communicating
     desperate plaintive wail,

     that I haint okay
with plea PLEASE HELP
     this tortured soul on verge pray
begging tubby rescued before drowning

     like a panicky gull clay pigeon,
     and buoy albatross
     strangling me far distant from any quay
quickly sinking spirits,
     abducted via fiendish runaway!
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
317
 
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